Dungeon & Commander

Dungeon & Commander – 4

“Hehe, so what about those kids?.

“They’re probably thinking about retaking the exam, feeling all gloomy.”

Kim Joon replied, making both women laugh simultaneously. Kim Ji-hyun even stomped her feet in amusement.

Kim Joon cherished this moment. He wished for more times like this. However, he couldn’t give up on finding his father. If his father had passed away, he at least wanted to retrieve his remains and hold a proper funeral. Deep down, he believed his father was still alive.

Lying in bed with the lights off, Kim Joon stared at the ceiling, using his arm as a pillow. This was just the beginning. He felt like he was finally being rewarded for his efforts. Two years ago, he had been a troublemaker, ranking 35th in his class. His teacher had advised him to consider universities outside the capital region, saying that getting into a metropolitan university would be difficult.

Yet, in just two years, he had become a top scorer in the college entrance exam. He had immersed himself in studying to the point where his mother worried. It wasn’t for the sake of studying itself, but to enter the dungeon. He approached studying like battling monsters, tackling math problems, tearing through Korean language questions, and memorizing subjects by ripping pages apart.

Even so, he was still just a carrier. People, especially those who had experienced dungeon raids or were armed with related data, often dismissed or treated carriers as expendable. It was understandable since anyone could apply to become one.

Many people sneered, saying carriers were just selling their lives for money. A carrier could earn ten million won per raid, and if lucky, even a hundred million won. Typically, they earned around five million won, but their income could multiply depending on the cores they obtained.

Compared to raiders, it wasn’t much, but five million won in a day was still a significant amount. While anyone could become a carrier, there were different grades within the role. Jang Won-seop, a carrier who always accompanied Yoo Wan-seop on raids, was well-known and somewhat famous, though not on Yoo Wan-seop’s level. Jang Won-seop’s income last year was 1.3 billion won.

Kim Joon aspired to be a carrier greater than Jang Won-seop. Since he lacked abilities, he wanted to reach the pinnacle as a carrier. After earning a lot of money, he wanted to establish his own domain and show people that being a carrier was a valuable profession.

While he chose the carrier profession to find his father, that wasn’t the only reason. His current goal was to find his father, but his more distant dream was to conquer one of the seven S-grade dungeons in the world.

The dungeon that made Korea a global raider powerhouse was located in Daejeon. It had appeared where KAIST once stood and was infamous as the Dungeon of Death. Ten years ago, seven of the top 30 raiders in the world, along with about 1,400 other raiders, entered that S-grade dungeon. None of them had returned, earning it the nickname “Death Dungeon.”

The event, known as “Deathfall,” was the greatest failure and tragedy acknowledged by everyone since the raid system was established. After Deathfall, small reconnaissance teams entered the Death Dungeon, but they could only stay for about an hour. Staying longer significantly reduced their chances of returning.

Due to the limited exploration, the specifics of what lay inside the Death Dungeon remained unknown.

The dense fog, swamps, and giant trees obstructed visibility and movement within the dungeon. According to Jung Cheol-dae’s testimony, the entrance was inhabited by the strongest monsters like Gratius, Pyrosaurus, Lyposaurus, and Nuklatarus, making it impossible to venture deeper inside. Kim Joon fell asleep imagining himself entering that dark dungeon.

Mission: Name

At seven in the morning, Kang Jin-goo found Kim Joon sweeping the area in front of the guild house. The internal track and even the parking lot were spotless. Judging by the cleanliness, Kim Joon must have arrived at the guild house by six, or perhaps even earlier.

“You’re here,” Kang Jin-goo said.

“Yes, sir,” Kim Joon replied.

Kang Jin-goo felt embarrassed every time he was addressed as “sir.” The guild house, being akin to a company, naturally adopted titles like manager, deputy manager, section chief, and assistant manager. However, it felt somewhat awkward for carriers, who were essentially laborers, to call each other by such titles.

Kang Jin-goo was the oldest and most experienced carrier in the Uramata Guild, having worked as a carrier for the longest time. By next year, he would complete his 200th raid, marking him as a veteran.

Glancing at Kim Joon, Kang Jin-goo began his exercise routine, which was filled with his own know-how. He started by stretching slowly, then ran until he broke a sweat, and finally moved on to strength training. Running was the most crucial exercise for a carrier, and Kang Jin-goo was convinced of its importance.

As he ran on the 200-meter track inside the guild house, Kim Joon, having finished cleaning the backyard, joined him.

“You run pretty well,” Kang Jin-goo noted, observing Kim Joon’s form and stride, which indicated consistent practice.

“You said running was the most important exercise, so I focused on it,” Kim Joon replied.

“Did I?” Kang Jin-goo didn’t even remember giving that advice.

To test Kim Joon, Kang Jin-goo increased his speed. Those who jogged as a hobby couldn’t keep up with even a slight increase in pace.

‘Huh?’ Kang Jin-goo was surprised to see Kim Joon running beside him without showing any signs of fatigue.

In over 20 years of dedicated running, few in the guild house could keep up with him at this pace. Among the carriers, only Section Chief Jung Sang-mok, Assistant Manager Lee Sang-seop, and Kwak Jang-seok could manage it.

‘This kid…’ To gauge the newcomer’s capability, Kang Jin-goo ran at his maximum speed, something he rarely did.

“Can I go ahead?” Kim Joon asked, then ran faster and effortlessly pulled ahead, soon putting more than 10 meters between them.

Realizing that Kim Joon had been matching his pace all along, Kang Jin-goo was left speechless.

“…We’ve got a real talent here,” he muttered.

After being overtaken in just four laps, Kang Jin-goo sat on a bench, panting and wiping his sweat with a towel. Kim Joon’s running form—his wide strides, powerful yet natural arm movements, steady back, and consistent gaze—was top-notch. His performance was good enough to place highly in elite marathons. Such a level of running required not only effort but also considerable talent.

“Is that him?” Oh Woong-ho approached, a cigarette in his mouth.

Smoking was strictly prohibited inside the guild house, but Oh Woong-ho had been breaking the rule more frequently lately.

“What do you think?” Kang Jin-goo asked.

“He runs well,” Oh Woong-ho remarked.

Unlike Kang Jin-goo, Oh Woong-ho believed that quick reflexes were more important than endurance for a carrier, and he naturally disliked running. Seeing Kang Jin-goo looking at Kim Joon with satisfaction, Oh Woong-ho made a face as if he had bitten into something sour and glanced around.

With a sly smile, Oh Woong-ho used his strength to throw a rather heavy tire in front of Kim Joon. The timing made it difficult for Kim Joon to avoid it.

Kang Jin-goo jumped up in surprise. Kim Joon leaped forward, soaring over the tire and rolling into a breakfall before immediately resuming his run. He showed no interest in who had thrown the tire or why.

“Wow!” Kang Jin-goo exclaimed. Running at that speed and reacting so quickly was impressive. His movements were as smooth and agile as those of an awakened individual.

“Not bad,” Oh Woong-ho grudgingly admitted before grumbling and walking away.

“Kim Joon!” Kang Jin-goo called out.

Kim Joon slowed down and approached Kang Jin-goo.

“Try running with this, like you did before,” Kang Jin-goo said, pointing to a standard 15-kilogram store bag that carriers typically used.

“…Then I’ll take off the sandbags first,” Kim Joon replied.

He sat on the bench and removed the sandbags from his arms and legs, piling them beside him. Then he put on the backpack-style store bag and started running again. Initially, he ran slowly to adjust to the weight, but soon he picked up speed.

Kang Jin-goo picked up one of the sandbags. It was heavy. He was speechless, realizing he had been overtaken by someone running with those weights. He had already been considering retirement, and now he felt it might be time to quit after completing his 200th raid next year.

Guild Master Go Chul-min approached and stood next to Kang Jin-goo.

“What do you think?” Go Chul-min asked.

“He’ll be the best carrier Uramata has ever produced,” Kang Jin-goo replied without a doubt.

The excitement quickly faded. The best carrier? Even so, a carrier was still considered expendable. Extracting cores from monsters’ bodies didn’t seem to require any special talent. With such effort, Kim Joon could succeed anywhere. Kang Jin-goo disliked meddling, but he felt a pang of regret strong enough to make his lips twitch.

“For now, that’s the plan,” Go Chul-min said.

“For now?” Kang Jin-goo asked.

“There’s more to it. Anyway, please take care of him,” Go Chul-min said, waving his hand as he sipped his Starbucks Americano and headed upstairs to the master room.

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***

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Entering the master room, Go Chul-min sat on the sofa and closed his eyes for a moment. It had become a habit over time. Though not quite meditation, simply closing his eyes helped him organize his thoughts.

After about ten minutes, he went to his desk to check the schedule. Today, the Socrates team was entering the Bukaksan Dungeon north of Gyeongbokgung Palace.

The Bukaksan Dungeon, an E-grade dungeon, was scheduled to be entered at 2 PM today by five guild teams, including the Socrates team. Unfortunately, the raid was not led by the Uramata Guild. The main team was the illustrious Han River team from the Jushin Guild, and their leader had already been appointed to oversee the entire operation.

“Hmm, if we’re lucky, we might be able to participate in a C-grade raid by March next year,” Go Chul-min mused, feeling somewhat optimistic.

This year had gone smoothly without any significant incidents. There had been no fatalities, and most injuries were minor, healing within two to three weeks. However, it was crucial to stay vigilant, as complacency could lead to accidents.

Just then, his phone rang.

“This is Go Chul-min. Yes, speaking. What? Oh, I see. Thank you,” he said before hanging up, clutching his head in frustration. If the guild house had been empty, he might have screamed and raged.

Jung Sang-mok and Kim Cheol-soo, who were on their way to the guild house, had been in a car accident and had just arrived at the hospital. They had fractures and would need at least a month, possibly two, to recover. Both were supposed to participate in today’s Bukaksan Dungeon raid. Without them, the raid couldn’t proceed.

The purpose of the raid was to kill monsters and retrieve the cores from their bodies. The carriers’ job was to extract these cores and safely transport them out of the dungeon.

Hearing the news, Kang Jin-goo, the head carrier, knocked and entered the master room.

“Master!”

“Who can we send?”

“Both Oh Woong-ho and I are available, but we’ve only recently recovered from injuries. Participating in the raid would be difficult.”

“You know how crucial this raid is,” Go Chul-min said, hating himself for being in this position. Missing today’s raid would disrupt the guild house’s operations, damage Uramata Guild’s credibility, and make it difficult to restore trust. It could even lead to exclusion from future promising raids, a fate that had closed the doors of many guilds.

“Understood. I’ll discuss it with Deputy Manager Oh Woong-ho,” Kang Jin-goo said before leaving.

Go Chul-min then called Kwon Joon-sang, the leader of the Socrates team, to explain the situation. The absence of well-coordinated carriers would impact the entire team. Kwon Joon-sang was annoyed, but Go Chul-min tried to calm him down.

“You know how critical it is for both you and our house if we don’t go in today. Yes, Manager Kang Jin-goo and Deputy Manager Oh Woong-ho will join. What? They’re too old and slow? True, but they’re experienced. Explain it to your team members.”

After barely managing to persuade Kwon Joon-sang and ending the call, Go Chul-min sighed. Before he could catch his breath, Oh Woong-ho burst into the room.

“Master.”

Seeing his face, Go Chul-min immediately knew what he was going to say.

“I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

Oh Woong-ho’s perpetual look of dissatisfaction always irritated Go Chul-min. If he had to pinpoint a reason, it was probably that perpetually disgruntled expression.

“I’m still within the rest period guaranteed by the Dungeon Association. Why should I go into the dungeon with an injured body just to cover for someone else?”

By the rules, Oh Woong-ho was right.

The problem was that the Uramata Guild’s current situation wasn’t prosperous enough to adhere to all the rules. If they failed to participate in today’s Bukaksan raid, their credibility would plummet, and they would be hit with a hefty fine. Moreover, there would be issues maintaining their E-grade license.

“If we can’t do this raid, we might have to shut down the guild,” Go Chul-min said frankly.

“Is that so?” Oh Woong-ho replied indifferently.

At that moment, Go Chul-min got the impression that Oh Woong-ho was already aware of the guild house’s financial troubles. Suspicions began to pile up.

“…Still, I can’t do it.”

“Alright. You may leave.”

After Oh Woong-ho left with his head down, Kang Jin-goo entered with a pale face.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“It’s not your fault, Manager.”

“Still…”

“Is there no other way?”

“Should we call Lee Sang-seop?”

“That’s risky.”

Lee Sang-seop was consistent and diligent, but he was still suited for F-grade dungeons. More importantly, his desire to become an awakened individual sometimes made him recklessly brave. Since it was a joint raid with teams from other guilds, they couldn’t send Lee Sang-seop.

“We have no one else.”

At that moment, Go Chul-min thought of someone.

“I…”

“I…”

“You go first.”

“No, Master, you first.”

“Alright. It’s a bit strange and may not make sense, but I was thinking, what if Manager Kang took the new recruit, Kim Joon, with him?”

“Ah, I had the same thought, but is it possible?”

“Keep Kim Joon in the rear and only involve him in the moving tasks. If Manager Kang handles the core extraction, even if it’s tough, it should be manageable.”

“It seems that’s the only option we have.”

The two men looked at each other for a moment.

Go Chul-min realized it was time for the guild master to step up. The guild master’s role was to take responsibility.

“I will take responsibility. Please teach him the bare minimum rules.”

“Yes, Master.”

Kang Jin-goo left in a hurry, not bothering with formalities or even closing the door properly behind him.

It was a gamble. If the carrier who had just joined yesterday were to die in the dungeon today, the Uramata Guild wouldn’t be able to use its name next year. The outcome would be similar if they failed to participate in today’s raid.

Go Chul-min picked up his phone and pressed a speed dial button.

“It’s me. I need to check on something.”

After explaining the situation and hanging up, he sent a fax to the Dungeon Association to change the personal details of the carrier participating in today’s raid.

While the Dungeon Association meticulously checked the participation information of raiders who had been recognized for their abilities through awakening, they hardly paid any attention to carriers.

“Phew.” Go Chul-min let out a long sigh. He had hoped for a rosy future next year, but an obstacle was right in front of him.

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***

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A helicopter hovered over the Bukaksan Dungeon, nestled at the foot of Bukaksan Mountain. Although the area was usually a no-fly zone due to its proximity to the Blue House, exceptions were made on dungeon raid days. The dungeon gate was still closed, and a broadcasting helicopter captured the scene from above.

Kim Joon’s mouth was dry. He had always believed that the day would come when he would enter a dungeon. He was confident that by next year, or perhaps the year after, he would enter a dungeon as a full-fledged carrier, and one day, he might even venture into the Yongsan Dungeon where his father had disappeared. However, he never imagined he would enter a real dungeon the day after joining.

“Are you okay?” Kang Jin-goo asked. His voice was muffled by his helmet.

“…Yes, Manager,” Kim Joon replied, his voice trembling and his chest feeling tight.

“Where should your gaze be?” Kang Jin-goo asked coldly.

“Always in the direction of the monsters,” Kim Joon answered reflexively, having memorized the response.

“If the raiders retreat from the monsters?”

“Leave everything and get out.”

“If a raider is in danger?”

“Never intervene.”

As he recited the crucial points, Kim Joon began to feel a bit more at ease. He started to understand Kang Jin-goo’s intention.

“Just remember that for now. Your job is to move the cores I bring to the rear,” Kang Jin-goo said.

“Yes.”

Kim Joon closed his eyes, feeling a vast darkness envelop him. Ever since his father disappeared in the dungeon, he had been plagued by nightmares for a long time, to the point where he was afraid to sleep. It was probably then that he realized the simplest and most certain way to face darkness was to confront it. The more he feared, the more relentlessly the terror would pursue and overwhelm him.

As his tension eased, Kim Joon began to observe his surroundings. He saw teams from other guilds. Unlike him, most were chatting casually or smoking. He glanced at the carriers at the back of the formation; they too seemed unconcerned. It appeared they considered an E-grade raid to be easy.

“Hey?”

Among the raiders, Kim Joon noticed someone his age. The girl, with hair down to her waist, seemed to have just become an adult this year. She was remarkably composed, not looking like a novice at all. She looked at Kim Joon.

“What are you looking at?”

“…Nothing,” Kim Joon quickly turned his head away.